


What Good Ever Came to Jason Todd?

by TimmyJaybird



Category: Batman - All Media Types, DCU
Genre: Angst, Gen, Nail Biting, body image issues, is Jason ever happy? No., mentioned/implied StephCass TimKon BirdFlash
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-16
Updated: 2017-02-16
Packaged: 2018-09-25 00:42:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,828
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9794708
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird
Summary: Jason can fake bravado until the end of days when there's an audience- but when he's alone, there's nothing keeping him from his own self doubts.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Proportionate](https://archiveofourown.org/works/9594995) by [TimmyJaybird](https://archiveofourown.org/users/TimmyJaybird/pseuds/TimmyJaybird). 



> Another commission for [Rockitz](http://rockitz.tumblr.com/)! A _very_ angsty sequel to "Proportionate" was requested.

Jason shifted his empty mug between his hands, feeling awkward as he was, curled up in one of the chairs in one of Bruce's  _ far too numerous _ sitting rooms. The night hadn’t been bad- he could never call one of Alfred’s dinners anything beyond  _ stellar _ , but now…

 

Well, the Manor was growing quiet. The family was thinning out, disappearing as they went off to bed. As it was, Jason wasn’t  _ alone _ , but he felt like he may as well have been. Situated on the couch in the room, Cassandra was still in that  _ god awful _ sweater that matched Bruce’s, curled up under a blanket with Stephanie now. The blonde was giggling at her girlfriend, her cheeks rosy from all the eggnog she had refused to stop drinking, that night. Hair thrown up in a messy bun, she looked comfortable.

 

And Cassandra was looking at her like she was the world itself.

 

Jason bit back a sigh, glancing down at his empty mug. Yeah, he definitely shouldn’t be here, shouldn’t be encroaching on what little time they had together. Life was crazy, he knew that. Especially their’s. They  _ deserved _ time alone.

 

He stood up, giving them a small wave as he headed for the door. Stephanie gave a loud  _ goodnight! _ , so happy and sweet and he just…

 

Had a problem believing something so happy could be directed at him.

 

He headed for the kitchen, dropping his mug in the sink. The coffee machine was long cold, the mess cleaned up. Alfred himself had turned in early, joking in that far too stoic sense that he had earned some extra sleep. Not that anyone would argue.

 

Jason left quickly, the room feeling cold to him. He headed up the stairs, feeling strange putting himself to bed in the Manor again. But Bruce had offered, and with so much of the family staying, Jason hadn’t really known how to say no. He headed down the hallway, pushing open the door to his old room, and heading for his bed. His duffle bag was tossed on it, and he pulled it open, rummaging around. The moment he was unbuttoning his jeans, he could have cried with joy. He was  _ never _ making that mistake again- even though he did, every year.

 

He peeled them down, worked his shirt off and crammed everything in the bag, underneath his clean clothes. His sweatpants felt like heaven, and he ran a hand over his belly after putting them on, feeling the slightest indent from his jeans, from the way they had bitten into soft flesh. He groaned, hoping in a day or two maybe they’d fit comfortably again. He tugged his tshirt on, before rummaging around in his bag again. He pulled out a well worn paperback, crawling up onto the familiar bed and settling into the pillows, thinking he’d read himself to sleep.

 

But not even a page in, and he was reading the same sentence for the third time in a row. Frustrated, he sighed, tapping his fingers on the page. His mind kept drifting, free now from the clutter of company, settling on  _ Damian _ , from earlier. Damian and all those words that didn’t hurt, Jason had sworn. Not at all.

 

Except…

 

He slammed the book shut, tossing it to the edge of the bed. If company was what he needed to get over this, he’d find some. Somehow. Even if it was just until he could pass out on a couch. That sounded more comfortable than this old room anyway- too many memories, too many ghosts. Too perfectly like how he had left it, years and a lifetime ago.

 

He padded back out into the hallway in his bare feet, glancing down each end. The girls were out, and he was  _ not _ going to find any comfort in Damian. He didn’t think Dick would be a good idea- he swore he’d heard him telling Bruce a  _ certain _ redheaded boyfriend might be running his way over through the snow. And Jason didn’t need to interrupt that.

 

He settled on  _ Tim _ , as the only reasonable and rational option. Mind set, he headed down the hallway, already rehearsing it in his head. Knock on his door. Push his way in, figuring Tim was half asleep because they absolutely had hogged the coffee so he couldn’t drink his usual amount. Just give a casual  _ Timbo, binge watch the Alien movies with me _ .

 

Wouldn’t be the first time. No one enjoyed a good Sci-Fi classic with Jason like Tim did.

 

He paused at his door, ready to knock, feeling confident and cocky and  _ himself _ again- but the door was ajar. Just slightly, like it hadn’t caught the latch. He paused, furrowing his brow, leaning in closer. Tim’s name was on his mouth, on the tip of his tongue, but it died when he heard rustling, the sound of heavy curtains-

 

And the unmistakable sound of Tim giggling.

 

Jason pushed at the door, gently, just enough for it to open a proper crack. He peeked in, caught Tim by the window, in his pajamas, grinning as he was engulfed by a large set of arms, his own up and locked around Kon’s neck. The window was still open, and there was snow in Kon’s hair, on his leather jacket.

 

He must have flown over. Jason wondered if it was planned- but no, then he could have joined them for dinner. Not like they were a secret, not like Tim hadn’t been dating his best friend for years. Not like the family didn’t  _ adore _ them together.

 

Which meant it was spontaneous. Which meant Kon probably missed Tim and flew through the cold, knocked on his window just because he missed him  _ that damn badly _ .

 

Jason felt his gut dropping. He flexed his hands, balling them into anxious fists as Tim reached up on his toes, kissed Kon’s probably chilled lips, still smiling. Kissed him until Kon was lifting him up and Tim was  _ shrieking _ out the kind of laugh that would wake the Waynes from their graves, clinging to him as Kon walked them over towards the bed.

 

Jason pulled the door shut, glad the two would be too distracted to hear it. That was enough, he didn’t need to  _ see _ that. He shook his head, turning quickly, walking too fast away from the room, almost wanting to run. Like something was chasing him, clawing at him, nails digging into his calves and dragging him down.

 

He stopped outside another door, turned and stared at it. Bruce’s door always seemed too large, towering over him, made him feel small. Helpless. Always had. He lifted his hand, like he was going to knock, even made the fist- but he knew better. He knew behind that door Bruce was indulging in the same sort of single free night Tim was. That he wouldn’t have time, for Jason.

 

No one really did.

 

Refusing to go back to his room, Jason made his way back downstairs. He tiptoed past the room he knew the girls were in, found himself alone in the dark. He didn’t turn the light on, simply headed for the couch, happy there was an afghan thrown over the back, and grabbed it. He wrapped it around himself, settling in, leaning into the crook between the arm and the back. He shifted, before he finally got comfortable, staring out into the dark room, the shapes of pictures on the wall he couldn’t make out.

 

He tried not to think about it, tried not to dwell on the fact that he was here, sitting alone in the dark, while everyone else had company. Hell, Damian even had his damn dog- and Jason would be lying if he said he wouldn’t love to have Titus’s head in his lap, so he could absentmindedly scratch behind his ears. But thinking about the dog made him think about Damian, about everything he’d said.

 

_ You’ll be alone for the rest of your life _ .

 

It cut, too deep. The words fit nicely under his ribs, clinging to his lungs and making it hard to breathe. And maybe sometimes he worried about that, more than he’d like to admit. Maybe Jason was terrified of dying alone again. Maybe he was convinced that the family was drifting, they had lives and loves outside their network, and eventually they’d be gone.

 

And he’d be alone again.

 

And why wouldn’t that be the case? For all the brass he’d pulled, as cocky as he’d been with Damian, no one had  _ looked _ at him in so long. No one had been interested, and chalk it up to him being  _ intimidating _ all he wanted, in his gut he worried it wasn’t  _ that _ . It was simply that he wasn’t attractive, that there wasn’t any appeal to him, just like Damian said. That no one wanted to touch him, to learn every scar on his skin, the way they did anyone else in this damn family.

 

He reached up, bit one nail. A bad habit that was harder to kill than him, he figured. But he didn’t notice, in that moment. He was trying to think, trying to recall the last time he’d been intimate with  _ anyone at all _ , and he just didn’t  _ know _ . It had been that long- and he figured he was probably in better shape then, too. And now Damian was  _ right _ and no one would ever want to look at him, touch him,  _ see him _ .

 

His other hand slid beneath the afghan, ran over his belly. He squeezed, felt the soft, warm skin beneath the fabric of his tshirt. Felt his stomach tighten, his gut roll over it. Felt sick over himself because he was  _ doing this to himself _ . Was he just so  _ afraid _ of being happy? Maybe if he’d just fix himself, fix  _ this _ \- and he squeezed his belly again- it’d be alright.

 

Completely gone was memory of Cassandra leaning happily into him- or the way Stephanie had hugged him before dinner and complained she didn’t want to let go, that he was too comfortable. Gone was the bravado because it was dark, and he was alone- and no one is free of their demons, of self doubt and loathing and the  _ bile _ that rises in the throat with it. All he had was the truth, in the dark. That he was alone.

 

He sat there. He sat and he stared and he worried, chewed at his nail until he tasted blood. And then he only moved to the next, mind drifting in and out of everything and nothing at all, letting that sickness coil in him, wash up over him. Time lapsed, the night waned, and Jason simply didn’t  _ care _ .

 

Until he heard someone, in the hallway. He tried not to move, but the footsteps were too close, and he shifted, tried to pull in on himself, disappear into the blanket more.

 

It was enough- and  _ damn _ that everyone in this family heard everything they shouldn’t. He heard the steps turn, and suddenly the light was flicking on. Jason winced, as Dick walked around the couch, brows raising as he saw him. “Jay?” Jason said nothing, glaring up at him through slitted eyes, the light aching. “What are you doing here?”

 

“Couldn’t sleep,” Jason mumbled, before he was reaching back for his mouth, working on the nail on his middle finger. Dick watched for barely a moment, before he was reaching out, hand wrapping around Jason’s wrist, guiding his hand away from his mouth. Jason knew he saw the blood around his other nails, knew from the way his eyes flicked down and then pointedly away, like he knew he shouldn’t have seen.

 

“Something on your mind?” Dick let go of his wrist, took up the space next to Jason. And Jason hadn’t  _ invited _ him, hadn’t asked for this- now all he wanted was the be alone. He had let himself be consumed with melancholy and self loathing, and now he had to ride it out until dawn when he could put on a fake face and pretend it was all fine again. And maybe it would be, for a spell.

 

“No,” he lied. “Just can’t sleep in that room.”

 

Dick’s face fell. And Jason figured he didn’t need to lay that on him, because there would  _ always _ be guilt in Dick Grayson over the kid who had filled his shoes and  _ died _ in them.

 

And maybe it was feeling so bad about  _ that _ that had Jason adding, “And, you know, I stay up there and I’ll probably hear something I don’t need to.” Dick looked confused, and Jason snorted a bitter laugh. “C’mon Dickiebird, don’t play dumb. I know there’s no way you’re alone in your bed tonight. Lord only knows who B has over, but I wouldn’t doubt it’s  _ someone _ . Steph and Cass were snug as damn bugs earlier, and there’s a certain  _ Super _ in Tim’s room.”

 

“Kon’s here?” Dick asked, and Jason wanted to give a real laugh over the protective flash in those pretty blue eyes. Because yeah, the family  _ liked _ Kon well enough, but that didn’t mean Dick ever dropped the damn  _ protective big brother  _ act that made Jason slightly sick.

 

“Point is,” Jason pointed out, “there’s this whole  _ Noah’s Ark _ pairing shit going on. Felt outta place.”

 

Dick studied him, before he reached out again, rubbed at Jason’s bicep through the blanket. “If you were lonely-”

 

“I wasn’t  _ lonely _ ,” Jason snapped. And god it was a lie, and it stung like one, but Jason figured he deserved the bite of it. “Just out of place! I don’t need a reminder shoved in my face that I’m alone.” He looked away, muttered out, “probably for good,” and Dick was squeezing his arm.

 

“Don’t say that,” he said, sliding closer. Too close for comfort, but he was trying, Jason knew. Trying to be that perfect brother, that comforting presence he thought they all needed. “You’re young, Jay. We all are. And if you’re worried about, well,  _ finding someone _ , it’ll happen when it happens.”

 

Jason snorted again. “Yeah, sure. Have you looked at me Dick? The fuckin’ brat was right about a few things. I’m not getting a second glance from everyone, and I can’t say I blame ‘em.”

 

“ _ Stop _ .” Dick squeezed, and this time it wasn’t comforting, it was a warning. “Don’t say that about yourself, alright? Damian was just being a kid, and kids are mean. Trust me, he got a lecture. He’ll get another too, don’t you worry. But he wasn’t right about anything. You’re attractive.” Dick moved his hand, slid it around Jason’s shoulders, leaned right up into his soft heat and smiled. “You forget some people prefer the soft look, little wing.”

 

Dick smiled, but Jason didn’t. Didn’t and couldn’t because this… it was too late. He was too far into his head, and the only way to claw out was  _ time _ . Not Dick’s words or his smile. Not the comfort that might have had Jason flying to the moon and back, as a kid.

 

“Someone’s going to look at you and think you’re the most handsome man they’ve ever met,” Dick pointed out, “and then they’re going to think you’re a  _ sweetheart _ , and we’ll never be able to get them to see reason. Someone’s going to love you,  _ want you _ , and then you’ll see how ridiculous this all is.” Dick gave him a squeeze again, but Jason pulled away from it. He stood up, shedding the afghan and leaving it pooled on the couch, leaving Dick staring up at him.

 

“If that day’s coming, I won’t live long enough,” Jason pointed out. “I’ve got a shitty track record, remember? So can the sugar coated lies, Dick. Just admit the kid was right, and maybe I was wrong, for once.”

 

“Jason-”

 

“Go back to your boyfriend,” Jason said, folding his arms, wanting to protect himself- but feeling the way his belly swell and moved, against his arms, and wanting to scream. “Go back to what you’ve got. Don’t worry about me.”

 

The silent  _ I’ll be fine  _ hung in the air like smog. Dick stared up at Jason, before Jason knew he’d have to move first. He turned without another word, leaving Dick to watch him go, as he headed for the hallway, the stairs. Back to the room he didn’t want to be in, in the house that felt too large and ghost-like, in the world that Jason didn’t want, in that moment. It was hard to want anything, when he hated himself so much, for so many reasons. For believing Damian, for falling into this rut, for letting himself get here.

 

For the fact that, in his current state of mind, it was all true. That he was alone. He was going to remain that way. He was going to  _ die _ that way.

 

And yeah, maybe he should just accept it. Maybe he should have figured it was what he deserved. After all, what good ever came to Jason Todd?


End file.
